Cry Wolf
by ss9
Summary: Onedin Line. Set in Australian Water's after the episode Cry of the Blackbird, desperate to find a cargo James looks up old contacts but will the reunion with a Commadore's daughter cause more trouble than profit?


13th December 1860

The weather continues to be hot and humid, hardly surprising as down in this hemisphere we are in the height of summer. I doubt the heat would be so oppressive if we were out on the open sea and bound for home but James remains determined not to return to Liverpool without a full and profitable cargo. He says it could be worse, we could be cooped up in some backwater port and not with the delights of Sydney to entertain us. I chose not to comment that we've seen precious little entertainment in our sojourn here. Still he has hopes of finding cargo soon and is using what few contacts he made during his captaincy days for Callan to find one as soon as possible…

"Anne? Are you there Anne?"

Putting her journal away Anne Onedin glanced up in surprise as her husband came dashing into the cabin. Waving a piece of paper excitedly around he began to pace around the room before slamming it down on the mess table.

"He're look at this…We've only been invited to a consul dinner…What you think of that eh? Us at a fancy dinner with diplomats and gentry?"

"When?"

"Tonight!" James replied excitedly before darting into their cabin and rummaging around for his best suit ignoring the look of panicked horror that flitted across his wife's face. "The agent I was dealing with mentioned my name to the ambassador and apparently his lady wife is a few heads short for her fancy dinner tonight…Well what with the weather and people being out of town its hardly surprising…Anyway we've been asked to fill a couple of seats… 'ear can you imagine that, our Elizabeth would give her back teeth to be at such a society occasion…"

"But James…"

"And what's more all the important people will be there…Traders…Merchants the lot."

"James…"

"I mean if we don't find someone with some business for us tonight why I'll sail home and admit Daniel Foggarty is a better sailor than I am…Why Anne you don't seem at all excited by the news?" He paused finally recognising the expression on his wife's face for what it was.

"Well it is an honour…"

"But? There has to be a but from the sour look you've got on. I told you we need a cargo and going to this party will get us one but you look like someone just told you old man died not that you've been invited to a glamorous soiree overlooking the harbour at the ambassadors house no less!"

"Yes but James what am I to wear?"

"Wear?" He asked seemingly genuinely perplexed by her question. "Why what you usually wear." He added waving his hand dismissively. "A dress…bonnet…gloves. Unless of course you were planning on going to the party naked in which case I don't think that would get us the type of business we're after!"

"Oh be serious James! You now very well what I am talking about. I packed for a sea voyage not a glamorous soiree at the ambassador's house no less." She added throwing his own words back at him to emphasis her point. "And even if I did know well it's not like I possess anything in the world that would do. It's your sister that is the clothes horse lest you forget…"

"I am sure you have something that will do?"

"No I haven't. Unless of course you want me to show up in my old brown frock and disgrace you? And it'll be black tie so even your best suit won't be good enough… Really James you never think things through properly!"

Frowning for a moment James suddenly darted back into the cabin before returning bag in hand. "Grab your bonnet."

"What?"

"I said grab your bonnet or whatever it that you need…We're going ashore."

"James you cannot be serious…Where on earth are you going to find the right clothes at this notice, it's only a matter of hours?"

Smirking her husband jangled the leather pouch in which the slaver's gold rattled. "My dear Anne I think you will find that nothing is impossible when the right incentive is offered."

- - -

"Please Mrs Onedin if you would turn slightly to the right and lift your arm…I need to pin the fabric to your figure…"

Sighing to herself Anne followed the dressmaker's instructions turning and poising like a porcelain doll and trying to keep the bored expression from showing on her face. Turning to glance in the mirror she tried to admire her reflection, true her figure was slim yet womanly and the new dress would definitely show it off to best advantage although she still thought it rather daring for any respectable married lady but the dressmaker had assured her over and over again that it was the height of fashion. Yet as she stared at her reflection in the glass she still bemoaned her lack of natural beauty, her skin was more sallow than porcelain pure and although her eyes were large and clear her strong jaw distracted from their feminine charms.

"Please madam needs to hold still!"

Closing her eyes in exasperation Anne had to resist the urge to clip the irritating assistant round the ears, however if he stuck one more of those infernal pins into her side then she might not be able to hold herself responsible.

"I am doing the best that I can!" She retorted through gritted teeth, turning and glaring at the back of the woman's head hoping that she might get the hint and quit using her like a pin cushion. However despite her death glare the dressmaker continued in her usual haphazard manner. Clenching her jaw Anne stared past the bundles of silk and cotton through the open door to the sewing room, bent over the long desks were many girls some seemed barely out of their teens and yet they all worked with a discipline and fervour that seemed more at place in one of Liverpool's workhouses than this little dress shop in the heart of Sydney's most fashionable district.

"You stupid boy!"

Surprised out of her stupor Anne whirled round ignoring the cursing of her seamstress as she spotted the lad being so abused. In the sewing room a young black lad no more than twelve years old was sprawled over the floor scrabbling for the spilled linens whilst his superior stood over him berating the lad with both his tongue and a handy measuring stick.

"Stop that!" Anne exclaimed practically jumping down from her stool and storming into the sewing room to stand protectively between the boy and his tormenter. "He's nought but a child!"

"Madam I would request you return to the fitting room…It is up to me to discipline my property…"

"Property?"

"Aye property…The lad was sold in apprentice to me from the orphanage and is sore in need of discipline for his mistakes."

"Really and you regularly beat your apprentices into insensibility?"

"As I said madam it is none of your concern!"

"It is my concern…It is any Christian person's concern, this is slavery and brutality sir." Anne insisted crouching on the floor in her petticoats and coaching the trembling boy off the floor.

"Madam I suggest you return to the fitting room and change…We have no need of your custom."

"Oh believe me you couldn't persuade me to take your garments for free!"

"Excellent then at least on that we are in agreement."

"Indeed and I hope that you can also come to some agreement with the authorities when I tell them of such disgraceful behaviour…" Anne countered watching as the blood drained out of the owner's face.

"There is nothing illegal going on here Madam!"

"Oh perhaps there isn't but I have now doubt that such practises will be of interest to your other clients. True some may not care but I hear certain of Sydney's leading ladies are deep in the campaign for children's rights and the ambassador's party this evening will prove a most ample opportunity I have no doubt!"

"You wouldn't…Madam you would willing ruin me and my family…All these girls would loose their employment all for some scrap of a child whose own parents didn't care if he lived or died?"

"Well I care…However I have no desire to see these girls out on the street but I cannot simply ignore this, I cannot leave this child in your care…I'll…I'll buy him from you." Anne suddenly exclaimed rummaging around in her purse for the pounds that James had left for her trousseau. It seemed somehow appropriate that money he had taken for transporting Reverend McPherson and his so called missionaries to Patua on their cloak and dagger scheme to enslave the natives would now be used to free a boy from slavery. "Here take this and be glad of it!" She added slamming the gold coins down on the worktable.

"But…This is less than I paid for the boy and I've had the cost of housing and feeding him!"

"What would you prefer? It's this or I will drop some pointed hints at tonight's dinner and you'll be lucky to have enough money to house and feed yourself!"

"Fine, fine!" The red faced owner snapped back scooping up the coins and shooing Anne and the boy out the sewing room. "The best of luck to you Madam, a few days with this little monster and you'll be regretting such a hasty decision…Oh and the best of luck at the party this evening, I am sure you will make quite the splash." He added maliciously waving at her best brown dress, which was hanging on the back of the fitting room before closing the door sharply in her face.

Taking a deep breath Anne let go of some of the fury she had built up and slowly a sick feeling of panic began to build instead. Turning to stare into the blank confused eyes of the lad in front of her she glanced back at her dowdy frock, one thought forefront in her mind. Just how on earth was she going to explain this to James?

- - -


End file.
